


Words Left Unsaid

by jb_mar



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: A little bit of sadness with some happy sprinkled in!, spoilers for episode 26
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:15:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb_mar/pseuds/jb_mar
Summary: Caduceus and Molly have a conversation over the strangest of circumstances.I really wanted to write these two interacting because I think their dynamics would play well together! This is also a gift for @tiefling-queer on tumblr! Happy Winter's Crest my friend!





	Words Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiefling-queer on tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tiefling-queer+on+tumblr).



> Hello all!  
> So, this is actually a gift I wrote for @tiefling-queer on tumblr. Happy Winter's Crest Rani! I saw you were interested in something involving Cad and you really enjoy Molly, so this was kind of my first thought. I really hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing it and coming up with it and I really hope you do too! I'm sorry it's a little sad, I'm personally still coping with some feelings, obviously, that I needed to work out through some writing! Anyway, I really hope y'all like it!
> 
> Much love,  
> Jules

Caduceus felt his body drop like a ton of bricks, cold water rushing over him like a million tiny snowflakes. Brine filled his lungs, caking every airy space as he tried to breathe in. The firbolg’s waterlogged body struggled against the violent current of a storm that came out of nowhere. Tossed overboard like soggy parchment, Caduceus’ armor wasn’t much help as he tunneled up from below the waterline, pink hair filling his mouth as he gasped and coughed. “Mr. Fjord! Mr. Caleb!” He cried out as another wave rose up, knocking him onto his back. 

Caducues’ eyes widened as his vision blurred, frantic in his paddling to get back to fresh air. His vision illuminated with the crack of lightning above, giant mitts clawing at nothingness in slow motion. He shot up again, sputtering as his ears flicked at the ending sound of thunder. “Yasha! Jester!”

Bang! Another fierce shove from the side forced Clay down like a bodyslam. Tired, the cleric’s legs gave way as the water tossed him upside down. Crying out in shock, Caduceus watched thousands of bubbles escape him, fluttering to the surface like moths to a campfire. Panic filled his gut like the sour milk Jester had given him at the bar, and he felt just as sick as when he had drank it. Clay could feel his lungs withering like a dying plant, his face transitioning from lukewarm to boiling. He tried once more to force himself above the surface for air, but his heavy form was already too far, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Desperate, Clay called out one last time as the edges of his vision fogged up, his voice burbling among thick pressure. _Wildmother… Please…_

Feeling his eyelids begin to droop, Caduceus’ back finally hit solid ground, his form bouncing in the weightlessness for a second before settling in the sand. He closed his eyes as his hands rested at his side. At the bottom of the ocean, the firbolg felt submerged in silence, a peaceful resignation washing through him. He was alone. He was dying. How strange… This definitely wasn’t how he thought he would go. As he tried to take a deep breath, suddenly, Caduceus felt a stabbing pain in his lower abdomen. He winced, liquid pooling at the back of his throat. The taste was strangely familiar, metallic, viscous and sticky. Upon opening his eyes, Caduceus found the gallons and gallons of pressure had been lifted. He now stared up at a grey cloudy sky in the middle of a grassy clearing. Blocking his view of what he assumed was a stormy sky, a giant grey skinned man glowered down at him. Eyes burrowed into Clay’s chest with a hunger that nailed him to the floor, but whether that was the man or the glave Clay now realized was embedded into his stomach was a mystery. Maybe it was both. He could feel the threat of death hanging in the air as the man turned his head slightly to the left, looking to someone just out of Caduceus’ view. “An example, then…” The voice boomed in the back of his mind, almost an echo even though they had been spoken right in front of him. 

As Cad turned to look, he caught sight of Beau, her hands tightened around her staff. Her eyes were red-rimmed and full of rage. Involuntarily, Clay felt his head reer back, the blood settling on his vocal chords shooting out of him as he spit, painting the giant man’s face. The man flinched slightly before raising his hand to his face, something between a growl and a chuckle escaping him as he wiped it off. “Respect…” He muttered before taking hold of the giant glave again.

Caduceus tried to shut his eyes, brace himself for the oncoming pain, however, he found he couldn’t close them, the image of the grey man above him burned into his brain. Suddenly, as Cad watched his killer begin to twist the glave, the skin of the grey man’s body began to flake off, flitter through the wind. Caduceus watched as the weapon over him melted, morphing green and sprouting uneven pointed leaves. The man seemingly disintegrated, his body turning to rose petals dancing to the grassy meadow ground. Confused, Caduceus sat up with a grunt, pulling the newly formed vine off from across his lap, his nose wrinkling as a few fallen rose petals settled in his hair. With timid fingers, he picked one out, turning it over and examining it. “Well… Isn’t that neat?” Caduceus’ drawl was met with a sudden chuckle from behind.

The firbolg turned, his attention fixated on the sound that came from behind him. Basking on a nearby rock, a pretty purple tiefling reclined against slate. The stranger wore a smirk from horn to horn, his head cocked to the side, quizzically taking in the sight of flower-clad Caduceus. In his hands, he shuffled a purple and gold tarot deck without looking as his jangly tail swayed back and forth like a hunting cat. Up the man’s face sprawled elaborate peacock feathers, lining the tiefling’s cheekbones to distract from the twinkle in his eyes. “You’re a big one, aren’t you?” The stranger muttered, rising from his spot.

As he shifted, Caduceus noticed the familiar coat draped over his shoulders, the complex beading and design shimmering among the new mid-morning sun. Caduceus spun in place, taking in the surroundings. The two stood in the middle of a beautiful meadow, flowers of every color creating a rainbow around their feet, the smell of jasmine tea on the wind. Caduceus opened his mouth, a slow smile playing on his lips. “Oh… Oh, I get it… It’s a dream. That’s new. Haven’t had one of those in a while, that’s nice…”

The tiefling raised an eyebrow at that, approaching Caduceus with a confident gait. “A dream… How do you know it’s not a nightmare? A vision? How do you know I’m not God?” The tiefling licked his lips, offering Caduceus a card.

The firbolg reached forward while he spoke, eyes narrowed. “I mean, you very well could be her, I don’t see why you couldn’t be.” Caduceus carefully selected a card from the middle of the deck. “But, I don’t think that’s who you are. I think we both know exactly who you are.”

The tiefling tucked the rest of the deck into his pocket, a sad smile crossing their face as they came forward into a presentory bow. “Mollymauk Tealeaf. Formerly of the Mighty Nien, Formerly Formerly of the Fletchling and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities, Formerly Formerly Formerly of Moonweaver knows what, at your service. Don’t look at that yet.” Molly’s head snapped up from the ground as Caduceus began to look at his card.

The firbolg obliged with a shrug, sticking the tarot up his own billowing sleeve. “Caduceus Clay.” 

Clay stuck out his hand, a welcome presence to him as Molly met him halfway. “Caduceus…” Molly repeated, staring at their hands together. 

They stayed in that position for a moment, as though the universe had stuck them that way and told them not to move. Molly was the first to break the contact, eyes shifting to the ground. “I… I suppose you’re the one who took my place?”

Caduceus pursed his lips, taking a small step forward, trying to explain. “Well, I wouldn’t say-”

“Relax Ducey, I’m joking.” Molly turned his back to the firbolg, waving him along to follow. “Walk with me.”

Caduceus did as suggested, careful not to tromp on any flowers around them. The sunset was beginning to take hold of the horizon now, even though it had seemingly been afternoon moments before. Time moved weird in this realm, Caduceus noticed as he hiked up the hill behind the other. Once at the top, Molly turned back, tail swishing as he waited for the firbolg. Caduceus stumbled up, looking out over the gorgeous view of a garden valley, thousands of succulents and blossoms sprawling out across the plains. The firbolg blinked slowly, watching vibrant butterflies flit from bud to bud. “Beautiful fauna.” Caduceus commented,his eyes scanning the plain. 

Molly laid his hand on the small of Caduceus’ back. “You’ll get to see it again someday, my friend, but today is not that day. Today, I just want to talk.”

Mollymauk sat, feet dangling off the edge of the cliff and Caduceus mirrored his position. Both bathed in calming silence for what seemed like hours before Molly spoke up, eyes trained on the toes of his brown boots. “So… How’s everyone holding up?”

Caduceus looked up and into the pale sky, sighing briefly as his eyes shifted from cloud to cloud. “They’re living. I suppose that’s all you can really ask of them. That they live.”

Molly nodded, biting at his fingernail. “I suppose… Jester? How’s she been?”

“Bright, but she’s dulled a little, I can tell. Something tells me she was brighter with you.”

Molly scoffed at that. “That’s not true. Nothing can shake that one. She’s got a lot of sadness in her from something, that’s for sure, but she does a good job at hiding it. Yasha?”

“Silent and angry.”

“Sounds like Yasha. Beau?”

“Rowdy, but getting better. She’s getting better at being patient. She’s told me time and time again her new motto. ‘Leave each town better than when we found it’.” Clay chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ve been trying, but…”

Caduceus felt the tiefling at his side wilt as the air around him whafted lavender. “You know, I watch them sometimes,” Molly muttered. “I mean, a lot. I watch them a lot. You’re good for them, you know that, Mr. Clay?”

Caduceus’ focus shifted from a little ladybug flying by to Molly, laying a hand on his back. “A healer is good, but a friend is better. They miss you very much.”

Another stretch of silence sat between the two before Caduceus spoke up again. “They don’t like to talk about it, but silence is sometimes the loudest kind of mourning,” Clay shifted, crossing his legs on stone. “I’ve seen a lot of mourners in my time. Some people chatter on and on about the good times they had with the person. Some people take a cup of tea and reminisce quietly to themselves, make art and collages and statement pieces. Some people get angry. They try to carve their loved one’s name into every body they see. Your friends… Well, each one of them deals with grief differently individually, but together, they don’t like to mention it. It’s still a fresh wound. They still miss you. I think they always will.” 

Mollymauk bit his lip, fingers playing with the hemmed lining of his coat. He took in the thought before brushing it off, but Clay could still see the wistfulness in his face. “Yeah, well they better, because if they forget me, I’ll make sure I come back a thousand times more annoying and obnoxious next time, you make sure you tell them that.”

Clay nodded as Molly settled down, looking up to the newly emerging stars. “I miss them too…” 

The strangers watched as stars peeked out from under their blankets of darkness, dotting the sky like splattered paint. The constellations here were unfamiliar to the firbolg, sporadically spotting and lining the galaxy. Molly pulled his knees to his chest, the cold wind shaking his glittering coat. Without turning to Caduceus, he spoke. “It’s The Fool.” His matter-of-fact attitude shook the firbolg.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your card. It’s The Fool.” Molly scooted so he was facing the grave cleric, reaching up the other’s spiderweb sleeve and twirling the card in between his fingers.  
There, embroidered in elaborate foils, a gnomish man holding a glimmering rapier greeted him, the bold font labeling him “The Fool”. 

Caduceus raised his eyebrows, mouth agape. “Wow… That’s really impressive. A mighty fine trick.”

Molly held the card to his heart, offended. “Not a trick, good sir, not in the slightest. Fate chooses the card, not me. The Fool symbolizes new beginnings, an end to something old. Important choices ahead, approach with optimism, look to the future.” 

Molly’s hand was in Caduceus’ faster than he could process, the card folded in half inside his warm fur glove. “Keep it. I think they’ll need it as a reminder.”

Caduceus held Molly for a moment, feeling his fingers tremble at the touch. “Thank you, Mr. Mollymauk.”

The tiefling shot Caduceus a smarmy grin, giving him a tiny salute. The cleric startled as the other’s lavender skin broke off bit by bit, melting into a pile of beautiful lilacs. Caduceus picked one up, spinning it between two delicate fingers. With a jolt, Cad awoke, feeling a hand press against his shoulder and shake. Eyes opening, Caduceus met Fjord’s gaze. The half-orc’s jaws stretched into a yawn, shielding his falchion in his opposite hand as he spoke. “Rise and shine, Ducey. You overslept. We need you in the kitchen, someone’s gotta cook.”

Caduceus grunted in reply, sitting up in his bed on The Ball Eater and reaching to rub his temple. As he did so, he froze, noticing his hand was curled into a fist. Curious, the firbolg loosened his grip, turning it over to examine his find. In the palm of his hand rested a familiar folded tarot card and a crumpled violet flower, clearly sitting in the middle of his mitt. Picking up the card in the opposite hand, Caduceus scoffed and Fjord noticed. The half-orc walked over to the firbolg, crossing his arms. “Where’d you get that?” Fjord asked, visibly confused by this.

Caduceus shrugged, looking out the porthole. His eyes landed on a certain seabird, gliding just above the ocean break, a beautiful mollymawk bird settling down to rest on the waves. “A little birdy gave it to me.”


End file.
